CHAPTER III
YOLANDA THE SORCERESS
Several days passed, during which we saw the Castlemans frequently. Oneevening after supper, when we were all sitting in the parlor, Yolandaenticed Max to an adjoining room, on the excuse of showing him anancient piece of tapestry. When it had been examined, she seated herselfon a window bench and indicated a chair for Max near by. Among much thatwas said I quote the following from memory, as Max told me afterward:--
"So you are from Italy, Sir Max?" queried Yolanda, stealing a glance athis ring.
"Yes," returned Max.
"From what part, may I ask?" continued the girl, with a slightinclination of her head to one side and a flash from beneath thepreposterously long lashes toward his hand.
"From--from Rome," stammered Max, halting at even so small a lie.
"Ah, Sir Karl said you were from Lombardy," answered the girl.
"Well--that is--originally, perhaps, I was," he returned.
"Perhaps your family lives in both places?" she asked very seriously.
"Yes, that is the way of it," he responded.
"Were you born in both places?" asked Yolanda, without the shadow of asmile. Max was thinking of the little lie he was telling and did notanalyze her question.
"No," he answered, in simple honesty, "you see I could not be born intwo places. That would be impossible."
"Perhaps it would be," replied Yolanda, with perfect gravity. Max wasfive years her senior, but he was a boy, while she had the self-commandof a quick-witted woman, though she still retained the saucyimpertinence of childhood. Slow-going, guileless Max began to suspect alurking intention on Yolanda's part to quiz him.
"Did not Sir Karl say something about your having been born in Styria?"asked the girl, glancing slyly at the ring.
"No, he did not," answered Max, emphatically. "I suppose I was born inRome--no, I mean Lombardy--but it cannot matter much to you, Fraeulein,where I was born if I do not wish to tell."
The direct course was as natural to Max as breathing. The girl wasstartled by his abruptness. After a pause she continued:--
"I am sure you are not ashamed of your birthplace, and--"
He interrupted her sharply:--
"I also am sure I am not ashamed of it."
"If you had permitted me to finish," she said quietly, "you would havehad no need to speak so sharply. I spoke seriously. I wanted to say thatI am sure you have no reason to feel ashamed of your birthplace, andthat perhaps I ought not to have asked a question that you evidently donot want to answer. Uncle says if my curiosity were taken from me, therewould be nothing left but my toes."
Her contrition melted Max at once, and he said:--
I will gladly tell you, Fraeulein, if you want to know. I was born--"
"No, no," she interrupted, "you shall not tell me. I will leave you atonce and see you no more if you do. Besides, there is no need to tellme; I already know. I am a sorceress, a witch. I regret to make theconfession, but it is true; I am a witch."
"I believe you are," answered Max, looking at her admiringly and seatinghimself beside her on the window bench. He had learned from Gertrude ofAugsburg and many other burgher girls that certain pleasantries weremore objectionable to them in theory than in practice; but this burghergirl rose to her feet at his approach and seemed to grow a head tallerin an instant. He quietly took his old place and she took hers. Shecontinued as if unconscious of what had happened:--
"Yes, I am a sorceress." Then she drew her face close to Max, and,gazing fixedly into his eyes, said solemnly:--
"I can look into a person's eyes and know if they are telling me thetruth. I can tell their fortunes--past, present, and future. I can tellthem where they were born. I can tell them the history of anything ofvalue they have. Their jewellery, their--"
"Tell me any one of those things concerning myself," interrupted Max,suddenly alive with interest.
"No, it is too great a strain upon me," answered the girl, with amusinggravity.
"I entreat you," said Max, laughing, though deeply interested. "Ibelieve you can do what you say. I beg you to show me your skill in onlyone instance."
The girl gently refused, begging Max not to tempt her.
"No, no, I cannot," she said, "good Father Brantome has told me it issinful. I must not."
Half in jest but all in earnest, Max begged her to try; and, after agreat deal of coaxing, she reluctantly consented to give a very smallexhibition of her powers. Covering her face with her hands, she remainedfor the space of a minute as if in deep thought. Then, making a seriesof graceful and fantastic passes in the air with her hands, as ifinvoking a familiar spirit, she said in low, solemn tones:--
"You may now sit by me, Sir Max. My words must not be heard by any earssave yours."
Max seated himself beside the girl.
"Give me your word that you will tell no one what I am about to do andsay," she said.
"I so promise," answered Max, beginning to feel that the situation wasalmost uncanny.
"Now, place in my hand some jewel or valued article of which I mayspeak," she said.
Excepting his sword and dagger, Max owned but one article of value--thering Mary of Burgundy had given him. He hesitatingly drew it from hisfinger and placed it in the girl's hand. She examined it carefully,and said:--
"Now, give me your hand, Sir Max." Her hand was not much larger than abig snowflake in early spring, Max thought, and it was completely lostto sight when his great fingers closed over it. The velvety softness ofthe little hand sent a thrill through his veins, and the firm,unyielding strength of his clasp was a new, delicious sensation to thegirl. Startled by it, she made a feeble effort to withdraw her hand; butMax clasped it firmly, and she surrendered. After a short silence sheplaced the ring to her forehead, closed her eyes, and drew her face sonear to Max that he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Max was learninga new lesson in life--the greatest of all. She spoke in soft whispers,slowly dropping her words one by one in sepulchral tones:--
"What--do--I see--surely I am wrong. No--I see clearly--a lady--a greatlady--a princess. She smiles upon a man. He is tall and young. His faceis fair; his hair falls in long, bright curls like yours. She gives himthis ring; she asks him to be her husband--no--surely a modest maidenwould not do that." She stopped suddenly, snatched her hand from Max,returned the ring and cried, "No more, no more!"
She tossed her hands in the air, as if to drive off the spirits, andwithout another word ran to the parlor laughing, and threw herself onUncle Castleman's knee. Max slowly made the sign of the cross andfollowed the little enchantress. She had most effectually imposed onhim. He was inclined to believe that she had seen the ring or had heardof it in Burgundy before the princess sent it; but Yolanda could havebeen little more than a child at that time--three years before. Perhapsshe was hardly past fourteen, and one of her class would certainly notbe apt to know of the ring that had been sent by the princess. She mighthave received her information from Twonette, who, Franz said, wasacquainted with Mary of Burgundy; but even had Yolanda heard of thering, the fact would not have helped her to know it.
After our first evening with the Castlemans we got on famouslytogether. True, Max and I felt that we were making great concessions,and I do not doubt that we showed it in many unconscious words and acts.This certainly was true of Max; but Yolanda's unfailing laughter, thoughat times it was provoking, soon brought him to see that too great asense of dignity was at times ridiculous. He could not, however, alwaysforget that he was a Hapsburg while she was a burgher girl, and his goodmemory got him many a keen little thrust from her saucy tongue. If Maxresented her sauciness, she ran away from him with the full knowledgethat he would miss her. She was much surer that she pleased anddelighted him than he was that he pleased her, though of the latter factshe left, in truth, little room for doubt.
Max was very happy. He had never before known a playmate. But here inBasel the good Franz and his frau, Yolanda, Twonette, fat old Castleman,and myself were al
l boys and girls together, snatching the joys of lifefresh from the soil of mother earth, close to which we lived in rusticsimplicity.
Since we had left Styria, our life, with all its hardships, had been adelight to Max, but it was also a series of constantly repeated shocks.If the shocks came too rapidly and too hard, he solaced his bruiseddignity with the thought that those who were unduly familiar with himdid not know that he was the heir of the House of Hapsburg. So day byday he grew to enjoy the nestling comfort of a near-by friend. This, Igrieve to say, was too plainly seen in his relations with Yolanda, forshe unquestionably nestled toward him. She made no effort to conceal herdelight in his companionship, though she most adroitly kept him at aproper distance. If she observed a growing confidence in Max, shequickly nipped it by showing him that she enjoyed my companionship orthat of old Franz just as much. On such occasions Max's dignity andvanity required balm.
"Oh, Karl," he said to me one evening while we were preparing for bed,"it seems to me I have just wakened to life, or have just got out ofprison. No man can be happy on a pinnacle above the intimate friendshipsof his fellow-man and--and woman."
"Yes, 'and woman.' Well put, Max," said I.
Max did not notice my insinuation, but continued:--
"I have lived longer since knowing these lowly friends than in all theyears of my life in Styria. Karl, you have spoiled a good, stiff-jointedHapsburg, but you have made a man. If nothing more comes of this journeyinto the world than I have already had, I am your debtor for life. Whatwould my dear old father and mother say if they should see me and knowthe life I am leading? In their eyes I should be disgraced--coveredwith shame."
"When you go back to Hapsburg," I said, "you can again take up yourold, petrified existence and eat your husks of daily adulation. You willsoon again find satisfaction in the bended knee, and will insist thatthose who approach you bow deferentially to your ancestors."
"I shall, of course, return to Hapsburg," he said. "It is my fate, andno man can change the destiny to which he was born. I must also endurethe bowing and the adulation. Men shall honor my ancestors and respectin me their descendant, but I shall never again be without friends if itbe in my power to possess them. As I have said, that is difficult forone placed above his fellow-man."
"There is the trouble with men of your degree," I answered. "Friends arenot like castles, cities, and courtly servitors. Those, indeed, one mayreally own; but we possess our friends only as they possess us. Like amirror, a friend gives us only what we ourselves give. No king is greatenough to produce his own image unless he stands before the glass."
"Teach me, Karl, to stand before the glass," said Max, plaintively.
"You are before it now, my dear boy," I answered. "These new friends aregiving you only what you give them. With me, you have always been beforethe glass."
"That has been true," said Max, "ever since the first day you enteredHapsburg. Do you remember? I climbed on your knee and said, 'You have abig, ugly nose!' Mother admonished me, and I quickly made amends bysaying, 'But I like you.'"
"I well remember, Max," I responded. "That day was one of mutualconquest. That is the prime condition of friendship: mutual conquest andmutual surrender. But you must have other friends than me. You see I amnot jealous. You must have friends of your own age."
"I now realize why I have hungered all my life," said Max, "though Ihave never before known: I longed for friends. Is it not strange that Ishould find them among these low-born people? It surely cannot be wrongfor me to live as I do, though father and mother would doubtless deem itcriminal."
"These good burgher folk are making you better and broader andstronger," I answered. "But there is one thing I want to suggest: youare devoting too much of your time to the brown-eyed little maid. Youmust seek favor with Twonette. She is harmless, and through her you may,by some freak of fortune, reach the goal of your desires. With theprestige of your family and the riches of Burgundy, you may become themost powerful man in the world, save the Pope."
"Perhaps Fraeulein Yolanda is also acquainted with the Princess Mary,"responded Max, half reluctantly speaking Mary's name.
"No," I answered, "she is not." I asked her if she were. She laughed atthe suggestion, and said: 'Oh, no, no, the princess is a very proudperson and very exclusive. She knows but one burgher girl in Peronne, Iam told. That one is Twonette, and I believe she treats her mostungraciously at times. I would not endure her snubs and haughty ways asTwonette does. I seek the friendship of no princess. Girls of my ownclass are good enough for me. "Twonette, fetch me a cup of wine.""Twonette, thread my needle." "Twonette, you are fat and lazy and sleeptoo much." "Twonette, stand up." "Twonette, sit down." Faugh! I tell youI want none of these princesses, no, not one of them. I hate princesses,and I tell you I doubly hate this--this--' She did not say whom shedoubly hated. She is a forward little witch, Max. She laughed merrily atmy questions concerning the princess, and asked me if we were going toBurgundy to storm Mary's heart. 'Who is to win her?' she asked. 'You,Sir Karl, or Sir Max? It must be you. Sir Max is too slow and dignifiedeven to think of scaling the walls of a maiden fortress. It must be you,Sir Karl.' The saucy little elf rose from her chair, bowed low before meand said, 'I do liege homage to the future Duke of Burgundy.' Then shedanced across the room, laughing at my discomfiture. She is charming,Max, but remember Gertrude the Conqueror! Such trifling affairs are wellenough to teach a man the a-b-c of life but one with your destiny aheadof him must not remain too long in his alphabet. Such affairs are forboys, Max, for boys."
"Do not fear for me, Karl," answered Max, laughingly. "We are not apt totake hurt from dangers we see."
"Do you clearly see the danger?" I suggested.
"I clearly see," he responded. "I admire Fraeulein Yolanda as I havenever admired any other woman. I respect her as if she were a princess;but one of the penalties of my birth is that I may not think of her norof one of her class. She is not for me; she is a burgher maiden--out ofmy reach. For that reason I feel that I should respect her."
The attitude of Max toward Yolanda was a real triumph of skill andadroitness over inherited convictions and false education. She hadbrought him from condescension to deference solely by the magic of herart. Or am I wrong? Was it her artlessness? Perhaps it was her artfulartlessness, since every girl-baby is born with a modicum of thatdangerous quality.
"Perhaps you are right, Karl," added Max. "I may underrate the power ofthis girl. As you have said, she is a little witch. But beneath herlaughter there is a rare show of tenderness and strength, which attimes seems pathetic and almost elfin. You are right, Karl. I willdevote myself to Twonette hereafter. She is like a feather-bed in thatshe cannot be injured by a blow, neither can she give one; butYolanda--ah, Karl, she is like a priceless jewel that may be shatteredby a blow and may blind one by its radiance."
But Max's devotion to Twonette was a failure. She was certainly willing,but Yolanda would have none of it, and with no equivocation gave everyone to understand as much. Still, she held Max at a respectful distance.In fact, this Yolanda handled us all as a juggler tosses his balls. Maxmust not be too attentive to her, and he must not be at all attentive toTwonette. In this arrangement Twonette acquiesced. She would not dare tolift her eyes to one upon whom Yolanda was looking!
Here was illustrated the complete supremacy of mind over matter.Castleman, Twonette, Franz and his frau, Max and I, all danced when thetiny white hand of Yolanda pulled the strings. A kiss or a saucy nod forCastleman or Twonette, a smile or a frown for Max and me, were theinstruments wherewith she worked. Deftly she turned each situation asshe desired. Max made frequent efforts to obtain a private moment withher, that he might ask a few questions concerning her wonderfulknowledge of his ring--they had been burning him since the night of hersorcery--but, though she knew quite well his desire to question her, shegave him no opportunity.
During the time that Castleman was buying his silks, the members of ourlittle party grew rapidly in friendship. In culture, education, andref
inement, the Castlemans were far above any burghers I had ever known.Franz and his wife, though good, simple people, were not at all inCastleman's class. They felt their inferiority, and did not go abroadwith us, though we supped daily with them. Each evening supper was alittle fete followed by a romp of amusement, songs, and childish gamesin the frau's great parlor.
The Castlemans, Max, and I made several excursions into the mountains.Yolanda and Twonette were in ecstasy at the mountain views, which wereso vividly in contrast with the lowlands of Burgundy.
"These mountains are beautiful," said patriotic Yolanda, "but ourlowlands raise bread to feed the hungry."
On one occasion we rode to the Falls of Schaffhausen, and often we wereout upon the river. During these expeditions Yolanda adroitly kept ourlittle party together, and Max could have no private word with her.
I had never been so happy as I was during the fortnight at Basel whileCastleman was buying silk. I was almost a child again; my fifty oddyears seemed to fall from me as an eagle sheds his plumes in spring. Wewere all happy and merry as a May-day, and our joyousness was woven fromthe warp and woof of Yolanda's gentle, laughing nature. Without her, ourlife would have been comfortable but commonplace.
During all this time Max pondered in vain upon the remarkable manner inwhich Yolanda had divined the secret of his ring. He longed to questionher, but she would not be questioned until she was ready to answer.
On a certain morning near the close of our sojourn in Basel, Max, aftermany elephantine manoeuvres, obtained Yolanda's promise to walk out withhim to a near-by hill in the afternoon. It was a Sabbath day, and everyburgher maiden in Basel that boasted a sweetheart would be abroad withhim in the sunshine. Max could not help feeling that it was mostcondescending in him, a prince, to walk out with Yolanda, a burghermaiden. Should any one from Styria meet him, he would certainly sinkinto the ground, though in a certain way the girl's reluctance seemed toplace the condescension with her.
After dinner, which we all took together that day, she put him off withexcuses until drowsy Uncle Castleman had taken himself off for a nap.Then Yolanda quickly said:--
"Fetch me my hood, Twonette. I shall not need a cloak. I am going towalk out with Sir Max."
Twonette instantly obeyed, as if she were a tire-woman to a princess,and soon returned wearing her own hood and carrying Yolanda's.
"Ah, but you are not to come with us," said Yolanda. She was ready togive Max the opportunity he desired, and would give it generously.
"But--but what will father say?" asked Twonette, uneasily.
"We shall learn what he says when we return. No need to worry about thatnow," answered Yolanda. Twonette took off her hood.
Max and Yolanda climbed the hill, and, after a little demurring on thegirl's part, sat down on a shelving rock at a point where the river viewwas beautiful. As usual, Yolanda managed the conversation to suitherself, but after a short time she permitted Max to introduce thesubject on which he wished to talk.
"Will you tell me, Fraeulein," he asked, "how you were enabled to knowthe history of my ring? I cannot believe you are what you said--asorceress--a witch."
"No, no," she answered laughingly, "I am not a sorceress."
"You almost made me believe you were," said Max, "but I am slow of wit,as you have doubtless observed. I told Sir Karl you said you were asorceress, and he said--"
"You gave me your word you would not tell!" exclaimed Yolanda.
"Neither did I tell aught save that you said you were a sorceress. Helaughed and said--"
"Yes, yes, what did he say?" eagerly queried the girl.
"He said--I am sure you will not take amiss what he said?" respondedMax.
"No, no, indeed no! Tell me," she demanded eagerly.
"He said you were a witch, if brown eyes, dimpling smiles, and girlishbeauty could make one," answered Max.
"Ah, did he say that of me?" asked the girl, musingly. After a pause shecontinued, "That was kind in Sir Karl and--and evidently sincere." Afteranother pause devoted to revery she said: "Perhaps I shall be his friendsometime in a manner he little expects. Even the friendship of ahelpless burgher girl is not to be despised. But he is wrong. I am notbeautiful," she poutingly continued. "Now let us examine my face." Shelaughed, and settled herself contentedly upon the stone, as if to takeup a serious discussion. "I often do so in the mirror. Vain? Of courseI am!"
"I am only too willing to examine it," said Max, laughingly.
"My mouth," she said, pursing her lips and lifting her face temptinglyfor his inspection, "my mouth is--"
"Perfect," interrupted Max.
She looked surprised and said, "Ah, that was nicely spoken, Little Max,and quickly, for you."
"'Little Max'!" exclaimed the young man. "Where heard you that name? Noone save my mother has ever used it; no one but Karl and my father hasever heard her speak the words. Did Karl tell you of it?"
"Karl did not tell me," she responded, "and I never heard any one speakthe name. The name fits you so well--by contraries--that it came to me,perhaps, by inspiration."
"That hardly seems possible," returned Max, "and your knowledge of how Ireceived the ring is more than remarkable."
"Let us talk about my face," said the girl, full of the spirit ofmischief, and wishing to put off the discussion of the ring. "Now, myeyes, of which Sir Karl spoke so kindly, are--"
"The most wonderful in the world," interrupted Max. "They are brilliantas priceless jewels, fathomless as deep water, gentle and tender as--"
"There, there, Little Max," she cried, checking with a gesture his flowof unexpected eloquence. "I declare! you are not so slow as you seem. Iwill tell you just how much of a sorceress I am. I thought to flatteryou by saying a great lady had given you the ring, and lo, I was rightunless you are adroitly leading me to believe in my own sorcery. Is shea great lady? Come, tell me the story."
She unconsciously moved nearer to him with an air of pleasantanticipation.
"Yes, it was a great lady, a very great lady who gave me the ring," hesaid most seriously.
"And was I right in my other divination?" she asked, looking down andflushing slightly. "Did--did she wish to marry you? But you need notanswer that question."
"I will gladly answer it," returned Max, leaning forward, resting hiselbow on his knees and looking at the ground between his feet. "I hopedshe did. I--I longed for it."
"Perhaps she possessed vast estates?" asked the girl, a slight frowngathering on her brow.
"Yes, she possessed vast estates," said Max, "but I would gladly havetaken her penniless save for the fact that I am very poor, and that shewould suffer for the lack of luxuries she has always known."
"But how could the lady have felt sure you were not seeking her for thesake of her estates?" asked Yolanda.
"She could not know," answered Max. "But I sought her for her own sakeand for no other reason."
"What manner of person was she?" asked Yolanda. "Was she dark or light,short or tall, plain of feature or beautiful, amiable of temper orvixenish? Was she like any one you have ever seen?"
She spoke in deep earnest and looked eagerly up to his face.
"She was beautiful of feature," answered Max. "Her eyes and her hairwere dark as yours are. She was short of stature, I have been told."
Yolanda laughed merrily: "I declare, Sir Max, you were in love with alady you had never seen. It was her estate you loved."
"No, no," said Max, earnestly. "I ardently desired--"
"Perhaps if you were to see her, your enthusiasm would vanish," saidYolanda, interrupting him almost sharply. "My magic tells me she is asquat little creature, with a wizened face; her eyes are sharp andblack, and her nose is a-peak, not unlike mine. That, she is sour andpeevish of temper, as I am, there can be no doubt. And, although she begreat and rich as the Princess of Burgundy, I warrant you she is not onewhit handsomer nor kinder in disposition than I."
Max started on hearing Mary of Burgundy's name, but quickly recoveringhimself said:--
>
"I would not wish her better than you in any respect. You wrong bothyourself and the lady to speak as you do. Those who know her say thelady has not her like in all the world."
A soft light came to Yolanda's face as he spoke, and she answeredslowly:--
"Doubtless the lady had like news of you, and is curious to know whatmanner of man you are. She too may have dreamed of an ideal."
"How do you know she has never seen me?" asked Max, who had not fullycaught her reply when she spoke of the fact that he had never seen thelady of the ring. "I shall surely come to believe you are a sorceress."
"No, I am not," she answered emphatically. "You shall carry that jest nofurther. A moment since you said those who know her say so and so, andyou believed she was short of stature. Had you ever seen the lady, youwould know if she were tall or short. You would not be in doubt upon soimportant a matter as the stature of your lady-love."
The reasoning and the reasoner were so irresistible that Max was easilysatisfied.
"But you have spoken of the lady as in the past. I hope she is notdead?" asked Yolanda.
"No," answered Max, gravely, "our fathers did not agree. That is, herfather was not satisfied, and it all came to nothing save a--aheartache for me."
It was well that Max was looking at the ground when she turned the softradiance of her eyes upon him, else he might have learned too much. Hismodesty and honesty in admitting frankly that the lady's father was notsatisfied with the match pleased her and she sat in silence, smilingcontentedly. After a time she turned almost fiercely upon him:--
"Do you know what I should do, Sir Max, were I in your place?"
"What would you do, Fraeulein?" queried Max.
"I would show the lady that I was worthy of her by winning her, eventhough she were on a throne, guarded by a thousand dragons. I am awoman, Sir Max, and I know a woman's heart. The heart of a princess isfirst the heart of a woman. Be sure the lady will thank you and willreward you if you fight your way to her and carry her off against allthe world."
"But how is that to be done, Fraeulein?" asked Max, carelessly. In truth,Mary of Burgundy was not uppermost in his heart at that moment.
"That is for a man to say and for a man to do," she responded. "A womanknows only how to wait and to long for one who, alas! may never come.She will wait for you, Sir Max, and when you come to her, she will placeher hand in yours and go with you wherever you wish to take her. Ofthis, at least, my powers of sorcery are sufficient to assure you. Donot fear! do not fear!"
She spoke earnestly, as if from the depths of a personal experience. Hereyes glowed with the light of excitement and her face was radiant. Maxturned to her and saw all this beauty. Then he gently took her hand andsaid huskily:--
"If I thought she were like you, Fraeulein, I would gladly go to the endof the world to win from her even one smile."
"No, no, Sir Max," said Yolanda, withdrawing her hand, "we must have nomore such speeches from you. They are wrong coming from one of yourdegree to a burgher girl of Peronne, if she be an honest girl. Ourstations are too far apart."
"That is true, Fraeulein," answered Max, sorrowfully, "but I mean nodisrespect. I honor you as if you were a princess"--here his tones tookenergy and emphasis--"but I meant what I said, Fraeulein, I meant what Isaid, and though I shall never say it again, I know that I shall mean itall the days of my life."
The expression in her eyes as she looked up at him was one of mingledpleasure and amusement. It seemed to say, "Do not be too sure that youwill never say it again," but she said nothing. After a moment shesuggested:--
"Shall we return, Sir Max?" They rose, and as they started back to Baselhe remarked:--
"The words 'Little Max' on your lips sounded sweet to me, Fraeulein.They bring home to me the voice of my mother, and though I should notcare to hear another speak them, still, the words are very pretty onyour lips, and I like them."
Yolanda glanced quickly up to him with radiant eyes. He caught theglance, and the last vestige of his ideal, Mary of Burgundy, left hisheart, driven out by the very real little enchantress that walked byhis side.